


you make me wanna go go go

by AuroraWest



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Top Stephen Strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraWest/pseuds/AuroraWest
Summary: Loki is convinced sling rings can be put to slightly more amorous uses than Stephen is willing to admit.
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	you make me wanna go go go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019.
> 
> Title from Delilah's 'Go.'

Loki stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes and letting the sun shine on his eyelids. It was a two hour flight from Tønsberg, Norway to New York, and finding parking in the Village was always an issue, especially when your mode of transportation was a spaceship. So call it two and a half hours. Two and a half hours on top of the other one hundred and sixty-eight that he’d endured. Seven long days. Seven long days of wanting and not getting.

It was, perhaps, just a _bit_ melodramatic, but they’d been the longest seven days, and then even longer two and a half hours, of his life. And when he’d arrived at his destination, he’d found no one home. Well, at least it had given him time to sit on his hands. Quite literally. They were freezing, as always, and it might be nice to avoid the initial shocked yelp of surprise when he put them on his lover for the first time.

The Sanctum was quiet. Empty, though Loki didn’t think for long. Or rather, Loki _hoped_ it wasn’t for long. He was so tired of waiting.

He felt himself stiffen and breathed in deeply to steady himself. He really, _really_ hoped it wasn’t for long.

A door closed elsewhere in the Sanctum and Loki smiled without opening his eyes. He _could_ say something, make his presence known in the study. But it would be so much more fun to sit there in silence and be discovered. There was a footfall several rooms away, then a rush of air and the sense of shared space where before there’d been none. Loki felt himself stir again. “Hello, Strange,” he said, opening his eyes.

Stephen Strange was standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and a smile tugging at his lips. Sunlight glinted off his eyes, somewhere between green and blue and so very, very lovely. “So,” he said. “The Sanctum lets you in now.”

“It would appear so,” Loki said lazily. “To be honest, I wondered if you might have something to do with that.”

Leaning an arm on the back of the chair and looking down at Loki, Strange said, “Now, why would _I_ have anything to do with that?”

Loki let a slow smile spread across his face. “I’m not sure.”

Strange’s eyes raked down Loki’s body. “Seems like you’re implying something, Odinson,” he said.

“Am I?” Loki shrugged, trying to determine how quickly he could get Strange’s clothes off. Strange leaned in further. “You know, you’re in my space, Doctor.”

“I do know, actually.”

“Mm.” In one movement, Loki straightened in the chair, then reached a hand up to grab the front of Strange’s robes. Stephen let Loki pull him closer, but then he put his hand over Loki’s and loosened it, abruptly moving away. Pursing his lips, Loki said, “You know, I’ve been waiting here for hours.”

With a laugh, Stephen said, “Aw, poor god.” He went to the window and stretched his arms over his head and Loki got to his feet, watching appreciatively. Stephen may have been in his fifties now, but he looked as good as the day Loki had met him. Granted, the day Loki had met him, he hadn’t been in much of a mood to notice how attractive the man was. Nevertheless.

When he joined Strange at the window, he glanced over at him. Stephen was watching him out of the corner of his eye. “I came all the way from Norway, Strange,” Loki said.

“Poor god,” Stephen repeated, but he turned, smiling that acerbic smile of his, and slid a hand over the back of Loki’s neck. Loki leaned into his kiss, his mouth opening, and made a helpless noise.

Stephen Strange did that to him. He hated it. But Norns help him, he loved the man.

He didn’t hate it, actually. The way he let Stephen’s tongue slide into his mouth was proof enough of that.

Loki raised a hand to run it through Stephen’s hair, a little grayer at the temples but still mostly brown, and let his other hand wander over Stephen’s body. The kiss deepened, Loki’s stomach dropped out of his body as heat spread through him, and he stopped thinking.

His hands wandered as their tongues slipped alongside each other’s, fingers moving from Stephen’s face down to his shoulders, along his chest and ribs to his waist, around his back to his arse. It was tempting to slip a hand around to his front, too, but he didn’t want to rush things _too_ much.

Stephen slid his hands underneath Loki’s clothes. “Better,” Loki breathed, undoing the buckles on Stephen’s belt as he kissed him, mouth open. Those hands, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t _right_. Here Loki was, over a thousand years old, and Strange was the one making him feel like a randy teenager. 

At least the belt was off, which meant Loki had the access he wanted. Impatiently, he opened Stephen’s robes, putting his hands on his chest, running his palms over his bare skin, the scar over his heart where he’d been stabbed, a nipple, which made Stephen draw in a sharp breath.

Stephen bit at Loki’s lower lip, not too hard, just enough to make Loki push his hips into Stephen’s, then said into his mouth, his voice low, “Slow down, Odinson.”

“Mmph.” Loki ran his hands over Stephen’s body, then he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. “I’d rather not.” His hands worked at the robe until he got it off, pushing it from Stephen’s shoulders and smiling in satisfaction at the noise it made as it fell to the floor. There. Bare skin. Loki ducked his head and let his tongue flick over a nipple, then sucked on it as it instantly stiffened.

Stephen snorted, running a finger along the waist of Loki’s pants. “I figured a god would have more patience. Doesn’t it take you Asgardians a month to eat a sandwich?”

“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information,” Loki said, raising his face to Stephen’s bare shoulders. He kissed his collarbone, ran his tongue lightly along it, and then he said, his voice muffled by Stephen’s warm skin against his mouth, “But I think you need to find a new source.”

“Oh yeah?” Stephen pulled Loki’s clothes over his head and dropped them to the floor with a _thwump_ , leaving him in his tunic. “I don’t suppose you know any Asgardians who’re up for the job?”

“Possibly,” Loki breathed as Stephen started undoing his pants. Once the fly was open, Stephen slowly pushed them down, until they were halfway over his hips. Then he stopped, which made Loki stop sucking on his neck so he could growl, “ _Strange_.”

With a low, delighted chuckle, Stephen said, “I had no idea it would be so satisfying to make you _wait_.” He skimmed the backs of his fingers along the bulge at the front of Loki’s pants. It made him weak at the knees. How _stupid._ He could overpower this man with absolutely no effort, none at all, and yet, all he wanted was the opposite right now.

What he wanted was to feel Stephen’s naked body pressed against his. What he wanted was to feel every part of that body under his hands and mouth and tongue. What he _wanted_ was to be held down and fucked. Immediately.

But Stephen obviously had no intention of doing anything immediately, despite how hard he was, too—a fact which Loki discovered, and then encouraged, one hand slipping inside Stephen’s pants. He made a noise, somewhere between a moan and a sharp exhale, and pushed Loki’s tunic up and over his head, running his fingers through Loki’s hair and pulling him in for a hard, open-mouthed kiss.

This was good. His human wizard had a tendency towards keeping his emotions in check, of remaining a vision of calm and collected. Which was why every time Loki had remembered, for the past week, the way he could Stephen Strange moan in pleasure, it had made him ache. After last week, they’d had no plans to see each other again for the rest of the month.

That proposition had not been tenable.

Loki wrapped his fingers around Stephen’s cock, moving his hand slowly, his thumb stroking up and over and finding a slickness that made a hot flare of need rip through his lower abdomen, down to his thighs. And Stephen, well, Stephen’s mouth dropped away from Loki’s as he panted and let out a helpless groan.

With a smile, Loki withdrew his hand, which made Stephen twist his fingers in Loki’s hair and say, “You’re a cruel god, you know that?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I plan on making it up to you,” Loki said, kissing his neck, then his jaw, then letting his tongue flick around the outside of Stephen’s ear. “A few seconds of denial will be worth it.” In a few deft motions, he had Stephen’s pants around his ankles, and then underwear. Who needed it. Stephen pulled him close, one hand on his arse, the other sliding up his side along his ribcage, and his dick pressing into Loki’s stomach.

Too much.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut as waves of desire broke against him. They’d hardly done anything. It was all in front of them. Or, well, in a literal sense, it was going to be behind Loki at some point.

He hadn’t thought he could get any harder, but at that thought, he did.

Running his hands down Stephen’s body to his hips, Loki sank to his knees. From here, Stephen’s scent was overwhelming; musk and sex and magic. The view was good, too. He put his hands on Stephen’s arse to pull him closer, running his tongue over the head of his cock. Stephen jerked and made a noise and Loki circled his tongue, tasting him, letting out a small moan himself. He’d been thinking about this, oh he’d been thinking about this.

With one last slow stroke of his tongue, he took Stephen in his mouth.

The moan Loki got out of him made his knees weak. Yes yes yes that was _exactly_ what he wanted to hear, and he wanted more of it. Loki reached a hand between Stephen’s legs, stroking the insides of his thighs in time with his tongue as he ran it along the length of Stephen’s cock, then up along the head and into the slit, which was slick and leaking. A helpless sound escaped him, muffled by a mouthful of cock, and he cupped a hand around Stephen’s balls.

Stephen groaned and ran his hands up from Loki’s shoulders, trailing them slowly along his neck to his hair, where he twisted his fingers and held Loki in place. That pressure almost made him reach down to touch himself, but his own pants were still on. Instead, he took Stephen deeper in his mouth, closing his eyes as a low moan fought its way out. Stephen’s fingers tightened and he pulled Loki’s face against his body, so Loki had no choice but to take his cock further, relaxing and letting Stephen fuck him down his throat.

Fine, he didn’t care that his pants were still on. He reached down and touched himself, fucking his own hand slowly.

Stephen groaned and gently pulled Loki’s head back, though Loki took his time running his tongue along the head of Stephen’s cock before he pulled back entirely. Stephen looked at him, his eyes dark, and before Loki quite knew what was happening, Stephen had joined him on the floor, pushing him down, pulling his pants the rest of the way off, and kissing him hard.

Loki arched his hips into Stephen’s, his hands running up and down his body, unable to decide what part he wanted to linger over, his mind wiping itself free of pesky thoughts in favor of the feeling of the hands on his hips and the tongue in his mouth.

Nipping at Loki’s lower lip, Stephen said in a low tone, “So you couldn’t stay away.”

“I don’t think—mmph—” The ability to conjure words left him momentarily as a hand spread his legs and stroked from front to back. “—I don’t think you should talk, my dear mortal, as you clearly can’t keep your hands off me.” And to assist in that endeavor, he hooked a leg over one of Stephen’s, so that hand would be freer to explore.

Stephen chuckled, then groaned as his fingers found Loki’s hole and circled it slowly. He could feel slickness smearing. Two and a half hour flight. He’d prepared. “Of course I can’t,” Stephen said, his own hips grinding into Loki’s, his dick hot against Loki’s stomach. It made him want to flip Stephen over himself and take the man, but no, later, he’d been dreaming of being fucked for days. The thought had been distracting him when he was supposed to be working, keeping him awake at night until he gave in and got himself off.

With another groan, Stephen said, “You know _exactly_ the effect you have on me.”

“I’m learning,” Loki said with a bright flicker of a grin, which made Stephen put a hand to the side of his face and kiss him hungrily. Only fair. He had to be at _least_ as tempting as Stephen was himself. He was a god, after all.

Facetious. Stephen wanted him because he wanted him. No divinity, no glamor, no magic needed. Though it did _feel_ a bit like magic when they touched each other, which was the sort of thing that he would never, _ever_ say out loud.

Maybe in thirty years, when he would still love Stephen Strange, and he would finally work up the courage to say what Stephen had deserved to hear from the beginning.

Thirty years would sound like a long time to his human lover, but it was nothing to Loki; it was as fleeting in the grand scheme of things for him as what they were doing right now. It was why he hadn’t been able to wait a month, not when he knew what they had. They’d taken this slow, very slow by human standards, and Loki saw no point in pretending that it wasn’t what it was. They would never belong entirely to one another, so they would have to carve out moments when they could.

Stephen’s finger slipped just barely inside him and Loki moaned into his mouth, the kind of unrestrained, helpless loss of control that he had spent most of his life striving to avoid, but which Stephen’s fingers could draw out of him with almost no effort. The first time they’d done this, Loki had seen trepidation in Stephen’s eyes, worry that his damaged hands wouldn’t be up to giving pleasure.

Loki had taken his trembling hands and kissed them slowly, one scarred finger at a time, and held Stephen’s eyes as he’d done it. The message: _I just want you to touch me._ The subtext: _you’re not too damaged for this._ Which was ironic, actually, as Loki needed to hear that too, and Stephen had been telling him for longer than he’d realized.

And Stephen needn’t have worried. When he ran his hands over Loki’s body, the tremor was forgotten, when he fingered him, his motions were sure and felt so, _so_ good. If his grip wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be, Loki could help there—and frankly, it got both of them hot when Stephen wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock and Loki put his hand on top of his.

“One of us is going to have to go upstairs at one point,” Stephen said, his mouth moving down Loki’s jaw to his neck.

“Why?” Loki said, one hand gripped on Stephen’s shoulder, where he could feel muscles working, and the other hand playing with one of his stiffened nipples. “You should just start keeping the necessary supplies in any room we might need them.”

Sucking on Loki’s neck while his finger worked further inside him, Stephen said, “Mm hm, and which rooms would those be?”

Loki’s hips arched again and Stephen pushed deeper with his finger. A second finger joined it. It was an effort to be clever when his nerves were singing with pleasure. “Do you even have to—” And even more of an effort when Stephen was moving his fingers in and out like that. “—ask?” he gasped.

Stephen gave a low laugh. “Every room, right?” When Loki just moaned, Stephen laughed again and kissed him on the mouth.

“Use your sling ring,” Loki said.

“Not exactly what it’s for…”

Loki kissed him hard, sucked on his tongue, and then said, “Oh, my dear Doctor, if you cared _that_ much about propriety, you never would have let yourself become ensnared by me.”

Stephen’s fingers crooked inside him, hitting Loki in exactly the right place, and he saw stars. “Not sure I agree with you on who ensnared who,” he murmured as Loki panted.

It was requiring every ounce of Loki’s restraint to not lose control and come. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea for Stephen to physically walk upstairs and get the lube that Loki knew he kept in his bedside table, just to give himself some time to calm down.

He knew it was there because he’d put it there himself a couple months ago, after having gone to the CVS in the next block to buy it. The cashier had definitely recognized him when he’d approached the register and carefully set everything down: lube, condoms, and a bag of Doritos, which had nothing to do with sex but was simply because, embarrassingly, he liked them, and they weren’t always easy to find in Norway. After the cashier had stared for a second, Loki had said, “Surely this isn’t the most shocking thing you’ve ever seen?” But maybe it was. The cashier looked to be about fifteen, which would mean her memories of the Snap and the Battle of Earth would be mostly nonexistent. How time flew.

When he’d arrived back at the Sanctum, he’d tried to hand the bag over to Stephen ( _sans_ Doritos), who had looked at him in wide-eyed surprise that still made Loki smile to this day. Stephen had stammered, “I didn’t think, are we…?”

So unlike him, to be taken off-guard and to show it. Loki had sighed and said, “It’s not for _today_ , Strange. For heaven’s sake, I just let you kiss me last week, and I prefer to wait until the third date at _least_.” But he’d flashed a grin at the wizard, gotten one in return, and went to put everything in what he thought was a convenient place, saying over his shoulder, “I just like to be prepared for the inevitable.”

Loki kissed him again and said into Stephen’s mouth, “Just go and get it.”

After a few more slow strokes in and out with his fingers, Stephen withdrew them, caught Loki’s wrists in his hands, and pushed his arms up over his head. He slid his hands into Loki’s, interlocking their fingers, and Loki extended the leg he’d had hooked over Stephen’s, so the two of them were matched limb against limb, bare skin on bare skin, along the full lengths of their bodies. For a minute or two, Stephen kissed Loki slowly, letting the ache between Loki’s legs edge away from bursting.

“I guess I have to take orders from the Prince of Asgard, right?” Stephen finally said.

With a smile, Loki said, “If you need to be ordered, Stephen, then maybe you shouldn’t bother.”

Chuckling, Stephen said, “Always with the last word.”

“Yes.” Loki tightened his fingers around Stephen’s.

Stephen released one of Loki’s hands, trailed his fingers from Loki’s wrist, along his forearm to his bicep, and finally reaching his face, where he ran a thumb along Loki’s jawline before kissing him again. “Okay,” he said. And then, because the man couldn’t stop himself from making a snarky comment, he added, “Stay right here.”

He vanished rather than use his sling ring and Loki felt the metaphysical tug on his awareness as he did it. The momentary pause in the proceedings gave him a chance to breathe and to take in the Sanctum’s quiet, the feel of the rug against his bare back, the way his pulse was hammering so very near the surface of every sensitive point on his body.

Loki closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and wondered at the fact that his life was full of good things.

There was a noise outside the study and then Stephen came in, glorious in his nakedness, hooked a sock over the doorknob, and kicked the door shut. “You can’t be serious,” Loki said, raising his eyebrows.

A poorly-contained smile started at the corner of Stephen’s mouth. “It means—”

“I know what it means,” Loki interrupted. “Don’t you find it a bit juvenile?”

“Sure, but I don’t mind being juvenile if it means Wong doesn’t walk in on us again.” Stephen looked Loki up and down, his gaze growing hungrier as he did it, and then he returned to him, straddling him and running his hands over Loki’s chest. Loki knew he could feel the scars, even though they were still glamored, but he hadn’t ever asked about the discrepancy between what he saw and what he felt. Someday, Loki would show all of himself. Just not today.

Loki picked up the lube that Stephen had set down at their sides, squeezed some into his palm, and warmed it in his hand before he reached for Stephen’s cock. He wrapped his hand around it, gripping just hard enough and sliding his hand slowly up and down, smiling and licking his lips at the way Stephen had to squeeze his eyes shut and exhale. “I could’ve done that,” Stephen said, his voice tight.

“Yes,” Loki said. “I know. But _I’m_ doing it.” He moved his hand faster and Strange gave a quiet groan. Then, his eyes opened and he moved off Loki, and he did… _something_ , something that was definitely magical and not at all fair, to flip Loki from his back to his front.

Suddenly, Loki was on his stomach, and just as he got his hands under him, hands grabbed his thighs and pulled him up and back, so he was on his knees. For a moment, Stephen’s hands stayed there, then they wandered, one up Loki’s side to his back, then up his spine, the other to his cock, which he brushed lightly with his fingertips, first up and down the length, and then over the head, smearing fluid. Loki shuddered and said through gritted teeth, “ _Stephen_.”

From behind him came a low chuckle, and then, “What?”

“You know _what_.”

“Yeah.” Gods, those _fingers_. His other hand was twisted in Loki’s hair, pulling just a little, and that felt good too. “But I’m teasing you, Loki, and it’s way too much fun to stop.”

Loki’s fingers curled into the rug. “Are all humans as terrible as you?”

There was a pause, as though something about this had surprised Stephen. His fingers kept moving, featherlight on Loki’s cock, as he said, “I just take special pleasure in doing this to you.”

“Well.” Loki let out a hard breath, trying not give in to the wanton moaning that was fighting to become his only method of communication. That would come soon enough. “Could you take perhaps even _more_ special pleasure in doing something else to me?”

“Like what?”

But Stephen’s hands were moving, until they slid over Loki’s hips, back to his arse, and he felt Stephen shift into position. Hands spread him wide and he bit his lip and closed his eyes, his whole body prickling with pins and needles and deep, aching need. There was a long pause and for heaven’s sake, he wasn’t really going to make Loki _say_ it, was he?

“Stephen,” Loki repeated, just breathing it this time.

At this, Stephen made a helpless noise, somehow spread Loki further, and entered him.

Oh but that didn’t, couldn’t, capture the totality of the feeling. Stephen entered him slowly, inch by inch, holding back and making this excruciating when Loki just wanted to be rammed hard and fast. He wanted to be taken, fucked till he couldn’t see straight, let alone walk straight. He wanted Strange to own him, and he’d never wanted that before in all his many years.

But articulating this was no longer a possibility. All he could do was moan and curl his hands in the carpet, clenching around Stephen as he pushed himself deeper. Stephen groaned too, pulling Loki against him and flexing his hips until he was buried up to his full length. It was all Loki could do not to put his forehead against the floor and beg to be given what he wanted.

Stephen drew himself back, almost all the way back, and then hesitated in unspoken question. Loki just nodded, desperation making it one quick jerk of his head.

With a moan, one of control dropping away at last, Stephen thrust himself back in, and then out, and back in, the rhythm hard, fast, and exactly what Loki had been dreaming of for days. He let his awareness go and gave into the feeling, and _fuck_ yes it was incredible, it felt ridiculously good, he was nothing but a bundle of raw nerves and feeling and pleasure and he didn’t even need to touch himself, it was going to be hard enough to not come within a minute.

There was a spit and hiss of magic and Loki’s eyes shot open to find an orange portal opening up right in front of his…and Stephen’s head was…he…oh. _Oh_.

Stephen had just used his sling ring to open a portal above Loki’s back and another right in front of his hips, which his head had appeared through, and now, without a word, without a single even _mildly_ contrite remark that perhaps a sling ring actually _was_ just waiting to be used for sex, he took Loki in his mouth and that was it, Loki’s mind wiped itself free of all thought as Stephen took him from both the front and the back.

Stephen sucked him off in time with the rhythm of their fucking, doing things with his tongue that felt like they should be illegal on at least ten planets, and Loki really, truly could not hold back any longer. With more effort than he thought he’d ever summoned in his life, amidst his helpless moans of pleasure, he managed to get out, “Stephen—”

Which was not a sentence, it wasn’t a warning, it did nothing to convey what he was trying to get across, which was, _if you don’t move, you’re going to get a mouthful of Norse god and maybe you don’t want that because we’ve never discussed it and perhaps we should have?_ But Stephen thrust into him hard and panted around Loki’s cock, “Please do.”

And Loki’s mind went black, then exploded in supernova starbursts, the aurora of Asgard’s night sky, the rocket flares of starship engines firing, the fire of an astral body burning up on reentry. The bright, blinding light of his feelings for Stephen Strange, a man he’d never expected to love and now couldn’t imagine _not_ loving.

He barely knew if he’d finished, but he wasn’t insensate enough that he didn’t feel the portal close, and then feel Stephen ram him a few more times before shuddering, crying out, and digging his fingers into Loki’s hips while his forehead came to rest on his spine.

The two of them remained where they were, slicked in sweat and fluid dripping. Loki’s eyes opened and he saw, upside down, the mess he was making on the carpet. Stephen was still inside him, but as Loki shifted, he pulled himself out. Loki was _not_ going to be held responsible for the mess that spilled out from inside of him.

With a sigh, he flicked his fingers, instantly clearing away both wet, sticky patches, and dropped onto his side. His skin felt extra sensitive to the fibers of the rug. Stephen joined him, resting his head on his folded arm. He met Loki’s eyes and Loki, still breathing heavily, asked, “What the hel was that?”

“Didn’t like it?” Stephen asked, his smile small and crooked.

Loki exhaled. The mere memory made him ache and start to stir again. “Quite the opposite.”

“Well.” Stephen reached out a trembling hand and ran a finger down Loki’s jaw. “You came all the way from Norway. I wanted to make sure it was worth your while.”

Loki thought about saying, _You’re always worth my while, my dear wizard_. But instead he gave Stephen a slow smile and sighed again, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling of the study before turning his head. “Very considerate of you, Doctor Strange.”

Stephen raised his head and moved closer, then leaned down to kiss Loki softly. “That’s me,” he said when he pulled back. Then, he tilted his head and asked curiously, “Am I really the only human you’ve been with?”

“What?” Loki asked, furrowing his brow.

Stephen’s head remained tilted. “You asked, and I quote, ‘Are all humans as terrible as you?’ The implication being, of course, that you’ve never been with another human.”

Gods, the man really _did_ remember everything. Raising an eyebrow, Loki asked, “Does it matter?”

“No. I would just be…surprised.”

“Why?”

There was a long moment of silence while Stephen seemed to ponder what to say, but finally, he gestured towards Loki, along the length of his body. “I mean, look at you.” He paused, then added more quietly, “You’re beautiful.”

Loki held his gaze, then smiled and said, “Since the question came with a compliment: yes. You are.” There was, again, an urge to say more than he should. He held his tongue for a minute and ran his fingers through Stephen’s hair. But then, something made him say, “I find myself quite content with that. And should you be the only human ever…” He trailed off and shrugged. Let Stephen finish that thought. He was an intelligent man. It was one of the things that had made Loki fall in love with him.

There was another silence and Loki felt Stephen’s fingers intertwine with his. They trembled until Loki tightened his grip, and then Stephen squeezed back. His mind, never quiet, thought of a hundred things he could say, some barbed, some tender, most somewhere in between. That was, he supposed, the liminal place he occupied, and whether or not it was one of his better qualities, it was one that Stephen seemed to appreciate.

Stephen remained quiet too, and if he could refrain from speaking, maybe Loki could as well. He supposed nothing needed to be said. Not right now.

A door closed elsewhere in the Sanctum and Stephen half-rose into a sitting position, but Loki pulled him back down. “I let you put that sock on the door, despite my better judgement,” he said. “Let’s at least get some use out of it.”

A smile crept across Stephen’s face and he let himself be pulled into Loki’s arms. Loki didn’t have to be back in New Asgard until tomorrow. He’d make quite sure they put their privacy _and_ their time to good use.


End file.
